Write Again Mallory
by Red Witch
Summary: Mallory tries to write a screenplay based on her memoirs.


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters is looking for a ghostwriter. In case Archer is now an actual ghost. But before that happened there was this. At least I think there was this…**

 **Write Again Mallory**

"Oh this should be good," Pam remarked as the majority of the Figgis Agency went to Mallory's office.

"Running to Mommy isn't going to help you this time, Archer!" Cyril shouted.

"We'll see about that!" Archer snapped.

"Archer just accept it…" Lana rolled her eyes.

"No! We're going to hash this out once and for all!" Archer barked.

"Are we going to have a food fight over it?" Cheryl asked confused. "I call eggs and rocks!"

"First of all, we're not using real hash Carol!" Archer groaned. "It's just a figure of speech and secondly…eggs and _rocks_? Rocks aren't food!"

"I know. I just want to throw rocks," Cheryl shrugged.

"And to think," Lana sighed. "I gave up a possible career in Environmental Studies for this…"

"Mother! Mother!" Archer barged into Mallory's office.

"Oh don't bother to knock Sterling," Mallory said sarcastically as she worked on a stack of papers on her desk. "Just barge right in without any sense of propriety. Oh and you brought the rest of the Brain Dead Bunch with you. Lovely."

"Mother, tell Cyril that he has to pay for my car's repairs," Archer said.

"Didn't you already have repairs done to that money pit you call a car?" Mallory was stunned. "What the hell is wrong with it now?"

"Something with the clutch I think," Archer shrugged. "Anyway tell Cyril he has to pay for my car's repairs."

"Your stupid car is not an agency expense!" Cyril snapped.

"I'm an agent. So yeah it is," Archer folded his arms. "And it is not a stupid car! It is a classic!"

"It's a giant rip off that's what it is," Cyril remarked.

"Mother tell Cyril to shut his pie hole and then give me fifteen thousand dollars to repair my car!" Archer shouted.

"I'm not going to tell Cyril to give you **fifteen cents** for that waste of metal and rubber," Mallory shouted.

"HA!" Cyril snapped.

"Told you," Lana said smugly.

"I've already paid an ungodly amount of money for that Italian phallic symbol!" Mallory snapped. "And I'm sick of it."

"It would have been cheaper to actually build a car from scratch," Cyril agreed.

"Just say the word," Krieger spoke up.

"The word is no," Mallory gave him a look.

"Awww…" Krieger pouted.

"But Mother…" Archer protested.

"Sterling this isn't our old spy agency where I can save a few bucks by screwing Trudy Beekman out of a decent lunch," Mallory glared at him. "You're going to have to learn to start paying for things yourself for once."

"Uh Columbia House ring a bell?" Archer barked.

"That was only thirty-five dollars," Lana told him.

"Thirty-nine," Archer corrected.

"Still…" Lana said.

"Archer we need to cut expenses," Cyril said. "Because quite frankly this agency hasn't exactly been doing that well when it comes to making money."

"What a shock," Mallory sighed. "Who could have seen **that** coming?"

"You know…?" Cyril began.

"So what are you doing?" Archer looked at Mallory's desk.

Mallory gave them a look. "Since this detective agency can't find any real work or money, once again I have to do something to pull our proverbial fat out of the fire. So I am going to write a screenplay based on my life. Then I can shop it around until it's made into a movie."

"I thought you learned your lesson the **last time** you tried this?" Ray asked.

"I did," Mallory gave him a look. "I learned to leave my work at home! Away from you idiots! These are just some notes I'm writing so I can work on them tonight."

"So let me just try to walk through the process here," Archer spoke up. "So I can get a better lay of Fantasy Land."

"You know…?" Mallory glared at him.

"Just for the hell of it," Archer went on. "Let's say you actually finish this masterpiece of lies about your life."

"It's all true!" Mallory shouted. "Well most of it. I may have exaggerated a scene or two. Threw in a few extra dead Nazis and explosions for good measure…"

"You finish the manuscript," Archer went on. "So then what? How are you going to get it made into a movie?"

"Again, by shopping around," Mallory told him. "And it won't be that hard. With my life this whole thing just screams blockbuster."

"Personally I think it screams delusion," Cheryl scoffed.

"Considering that statement is made by a woman who sees imaginary ostriches and doesn't even know her **name** half the time…" Mallory glared at her. "I'll take that with a grain of salt. Which I should rub in your eye…"

"Tease!" Cheryl sniffed.

"As I was saying before The Glue-More Girl interrupted me," Mallory went on. "I am confident with the right producer I can make my script into a guaranteed hit! I could actually write several movies in fact! Even a television series! Think of it, a series about a female spy during the Second World War and beyond!"

"That was already tried," Pam pointed out. "Hello? Agent Carter ring a bell?"

"That failed because Carter was a prude," Mallory snorted. "Trust me, if they stuck in a few good honeypot missions that series would have been a hit."

"Well not on network television," Archer snorted. "Cable maybe but still…"

"My point is there should be no problem getting my manuscript sold. I mean we already have an in with Ellis Crane," Mallory said.

"And **there** it is," Lana rolled her eyes.

"Should have seen **that** coming," Ray added.

"Seriously Mother?" Archer gave her a look. "It's bad enough Lana was throwing herself at him…"

"He hit on me!" Lana barked. "And you kissed Veronica Deane!"

"She kissed me!" Archer barked.

"After you were hitting on that blonde bimbo," Lana went on.

"Hey!" Pam said. "Archer and I are just friends now."

"He meant the **other** blond bimbo," Cheryl corrected her.

"Oh you mean the skinny bitch actress who dumped him like a turd filled diaper when she found out Archer wasn't a Hollywood producer," Pam nodded.

"What?" Lana did a double take.

"Blonde Ambition hit on Archer because she thought he could get her a movie role," Pam went on. "The second she found out she was wasting her time she got out of there like a bitch in heat out of a living room that just pissed on the carpet."

"It was a case of mistaken identity," Cheryl said. "She mistook him for somebody important."

"HA!" Lana barked.

"Burn," Cyril snickered.

"Shut up!" Archer glared at him.

"Called him a big loser," Pam added.

"No, she did not Pam!" Archer barked. "She called Cyril and idiot but…"

"Yeah she did," Pam said. "On her webpage. I'll show you…" She got out her phone. "Here it is."

"How did you get that up so fast?" Archer asked.

"It's on my Favorites list," Pam explained. "Right here. _Just wasted my time with a big loser nobody named Sterling Archer. Thought he was a producer but it turns out he's just a dick who wanted to get into my drawers."_

"Burn!" Ray cheered.

"Can I get a link to that website?" Cyril asked. "I think I'll put it on my Favorites list."

"Oh please!" Archer waved. "So some has-been predatory actress mentioned me in her blog? Big deal!"

"I guess not," Pam said. "Compared to the I Hate Sterling Archer website."

"THE WHAT?" Archer shouted.

"I am definitely putting **that** on my Favorites list," Cyril chuckled.

"Yeah it's got everything on you," Pam turned on the computer monitor in Mallory's office. The website came up. "Bad pictures. Stories about what a dick you are. All that stuff…"

"Who would put up a website dedicated to hating me?" Archer shouted.

"Besides the people in **this office**?" Cyril asked. "Off the top of my head, Barry the psychotic cyborg. Andrea from our old office, who was pretty psychotic herself. Scatterbrain Jane. Laura from accounting. Cindy from Payroll. Pretty much every woman who used to work in our old office. Actually pretty much everyone who used to work in our old office."

"Almost every woman who has ever dated you," Pam added. "And their husbands."

"Everyone from ODIN," Lana added. "Members of the CIA and Interpol."

"Trinette," Ray spoke up. "Who I'm guessing you probably haven't paid child support to in a while."

"Linda, that crazy woman you married when you had amnesia and left her and her kids high and dry and on the street," Cheryl spoke up.

"Dr. Sklodowska," Lana added. "Who blames you and the rest of us for the death of her lover, Dr. Kovacs."

"She's got a whole page about how she wants Archer to die of a brain tumor," Pam added.

"Valarie," Lana added.

"Oh God I'd forgotten about her," Archer groaned.

"The entire wait staff at the Four Seasons bar," Cyril went on.

"Oh come on…" Archer began.

"Pretty much any stewardess on any plane you have ever been on," Ray added.

"To be honest. Mitsuko isn't exactly crazy about you," Krieger shrugged.

"George!" Cheryl added.

"Who the hell is that?" Archer asked.

"The guy that works for me on one of my trains," Cheryl said. "Remember when you nearly got my ocelot killed by Canadians? He's always bitching about you! And your evil mother."

"To sum it up Sterling," Mallory gave her son a look. "There's an extremely long list of people who hate your guts."

"Not as long as yours," Pam snorted.

"What do you mean by that?" Mallory snapped.

"I mean there's a website about you too," Pam pointed out. "I Hate Mallory Archer Dot Net. And it's even bigger than your son's."

"You're **kidding?"** Archer was stunned.

"No, it's on my Favorites list!" Cheryl snickered. "Show her Pam."

"Here we go…" Pam went to the website on the monitor.

"Oh that is not a good picture of you," Ray snickered. "Or that one. Or that…"

"Oh my God!" Mallory was stunned. "I don't believe this!"

"Neither can I," Pam said. "I mean I've literally looked through the list of wives, girlfriends and sisters of the men you've slept with for hours and I still can't find the bottom of the list."

"You really should have contributed to your superintendent's son's operation," Archer said. "Well at least more than a potato."

"It's all there," Cheryl grinned. "Your cheapness. Your sleeping around. Your meanness. What a big whore you are…"

"This might put a slight crimp in your plans for shopping your manuscript around," Ray told Mallory.

"Not to mention if Ron sees this he'll dump you faster than a failed sitcom on a struggling network," Archer added.

"YOU THINK? WHO WOULD DO THIS TO ME?" Mallory shouted. "WHO?"

"The CIA?" Archer suggested.

"Katya?" Lana suggested.

"Pretty much anyone who has ever **met you**?" Cheryl asked.

"Cheryl did you do this?" Mallory snapped.

"I wish!" Cheryl snorted.

"Well if it wasn't you and I'm sure it wasn't Katya or the CIA then…" Mallory's eyes narrowed. "No…It couldn't be…It's impossible…"

BACK IN NYC…

"That'll teach that wretched woman to try and smear my name with the co-op board," Trudy Beekman sat at her desk looking at her computer. "Not to mention try to weasel out of paying for lunch."


End file.
